


All your masks

by Arvari



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 16:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3575721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arvari/pseuds/Arvari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the <a href="http://frost-iron.tumblr.com/post/113923144472/tony-breaks-up-with-loki-i-cant-do-this">prompt</a>: Tony breaks up with Loki: "I can't do this anymore". He's tired of the hiding/lies & how it's always a battle. His heart hurts & he's exhausted. Is Loki's reaction a possessive 'too bad I won't let you go'? A angry rage where he blasts Tony across the room and feels horrible after? Or faced with losing Tony, he slips into Tony's room a few nights later, kneels beside the bed & lets Tony see every mask is SHATTERED. He's the closest to begging for a second chance he could ever get. Happyend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All your masks

**Author's Note:**

> I admit I made some minor changes to the prompt while writing this, but I hope no one will mind. It just felt better this way... ;)

“I... I just don't think I can do this anymore.”

And for the first time since this argument have started, he seems to really _look_ at me. Yes, he's deemed me worthy of his glance for a few times, but only now I have a feeling he _sees_ me.

“Can do... what?” he asks, his voice suddenly very quiet.

“ _This_.” I try to make a gesture that would clearly tell him what I mean. Him, me, our strange we-call-it-love-but-it's-probably-not-that thing. But I think I just end up flapping my hands about.

“Oh,” he nods.

So he understood. Good.

Or bad, judging by the look in his eyes.

“You know, Lokes,” I say. “I don't hate you or... anything. It's just... It's too complicated.”

He swallows and nods again. He doesn't let anything show on his face, well, almost anything. There are just little hints in his eyes, his eyebrows, in the way he licks his lips...

“Well, maybe you should explain,” he murmurs. “Because if you are telling me you... If you are telling me... I just want to know why.”

“Because I don't think I know who you are,” I shrug. “I don't think I really know _you_.”

“Of course you know me. Why wouldn't you? Stark, this is insane,” he shakes his head. “Who did you talk to? What put these thoughts in your head? You know me, we've been together for five months, you-”

“I don't know _you_ ,” I repeat. “Just... Look at yourself, Loki. You never show me the real you. You think I don't know, but I do, I can feel it. You are hiding behind all your masks and I _feel them_. Don't ask me how. Maybe it's because I've been hiding behind them for all my life, too. Shit, I still do, every _fucking_ time someone asks me if I'm seeing someone and I say no, I'm not and I don't want to, and I smile and laugh, because I can't tell them I'm seeing you. I am so _tired_ , Loki. I don't want to hide anymore. And we've been having these constant arguments for the past three weeks and I look at you and I see all your masks and I think... If you can lie to me about who you are, how can I be sure you can't lie to me about what you feel? I mean, you've never told me, but... You must feel something, otherwise you wouldn't be coming back to me. But what if you coming back is a lie, too?”

He is quiet. So very quiet. I can see he wants to say something, say anything, but for the first time since I've known him, he is at a loss for words.

I shrug again.

“I'm sorry, Snow White,” I tell him. “But I can't.”

Then he collect himself. The pain is gone from his face, gone from his eyes. He is proud once again, distant and...

“Foolish mortal,” he snarls angrily. “You think you can break up with me like this? You should consider yourself lucky I have ever laid my eyes on you! I started this! If you think you will be the one _end_ it-”

“Yes, I do. I am ending it. Right now.”

He closes his eyes and I regret saying anything.

“As you wish, _Stark_.”

I flinch. He hasn't called me  _Stark_ for months. Not like this. And I suddenly know he's not angry, he's way  _beyond_ angry. And that means...

Before I know it, I am flying through air and straight into the wall behind me. The impact is so hard I get the breath knocked out of me, but I know he wasn't trying to kill me. If he did, I'd be dead already.

In fact, when I look up, he seems to be as shocked as I am. I fight to catch my breath and he just stares at me.

Then he teleports himself away.

“Oh, great,” I wheeze out. “Just... fantastic.”

 

A couple hours later, I am laying in my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about the pain in my back. It hurts like a  _bitch_ I tell you. I feel like I got run over by a car. I didn't even go to have dinner with the others. Which, of course, means Bruce payed me a visit (was  _sent_ to pay me a visit, probably) and asked a lot of questions. Especially about my back. I told him I slipped and fell, what else could I have said? He believed me. Good for him.

I, on the other hand, still can't believe Loki used his magic to harm me. He probably didn't mean it, yeah, and didn't want to do it, judging by the look on his face when I looked up. But he did it, the little piece of shit.

It's a good thing I got rid of him, yeah. I mean... He was good when he wanted to be, of course, but this clearly proves he was dangerous, too. And definitely not good for me. And...

And there's a flash of green light which makes me turn my head, which makes me wince, because not only my back hurts, but my neck does, too. And of course he notices the wince, he always does, and before I can say anything, a gentle hand touches my shoulder and nothing hurts anymore.

I really hate him sometimes.

I push his hand away and roll over to face him properly.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask.

He is kneeling beside my bed, his face absolutely expressionless, but his eyes terribly sad. I have never seen him like this. He is just... watching me. I get a feeling something is terribly wrong, but I couldn't tell you what even if you tortured me. I take a deep breath.

“I mean...” I try to sound calm. “I thought you were gone for good.”

“Yes, I know you would like that,” he murmurs. He doesn't get up, he doesn't even move. He just talks. “Well, there are... two things I need to do.. First, I want to apologize for hurting you. I... I haven't lost control of my magic since the day my mother died. I assure you it was completely unintentional.”

“Okay,” I nod. And I _am_ okay with it. Weird.

“And then I wanted to... show you... the real me.”

Suddenly I know what's so wrong about him. It's been literally staring me in the face. It's... Well, his face. And those eyes. But mostly the face.

Because I didn't notice at first that yes, it is  _expressionless_ , but not in the same way it always is. Usually, it still has that I-feel-something-but-you-will-never-know-what look. It's cold and reserved and not expressionless at all.

This, on the other hand, is a truly blank face without any emotion. No grief, no hate, no arrogance.

I blink. I know that look. It's the look of someone who has long since passed the grief and who is now holding on by the sheer force of will. Someone who has already cried his eyes out (and it's only now that I notice his eyes are red,  _damn it_ ) and who is only able to  _exist_ , nothing more.

Loki is devastated and he doesn't hide it from me. His eyes... They make me want to hug him and hold him close, they're so full of pain. But I don't hug him. I can't to anything.

I realize I've been quiet for far too long when he speaks again.

“The truth is, Anthony,” he croaks, “that you cannot know me, because I don't know myself. Who am I? I was raised as a prince, yet I was not one. I was expected to be a worthy son, but I could never be one. I was forced to be a world conqueror, but I didn't _want_ to be one. My real father wanted me dead and the man who took me in only wanted to use me as a pawn in his political game. The only person who have ever truly loved me is dead and it was my fault. The only person who have ever understood me, who _tried_ to understand. Perhaps she would be able to tell me. Laufeyson? Odinson? Friggason? Liesmith? Who am I, Anthony?”

“You're Loki,” I say.

“And who is Loki?” he whispers. “You are right. I am hiding behind so many masks I don't even know myself. The arrogance, the coolness, the wit... Even my own skin. All lies. You know why?”

“Because when you wear your masks, no one can hurt you.”

“You really do know that feeling, don't you?” He smiles, but only a little, and very sadly.

“Yeah.”

“I am only wearing one mask now, Anthony,” he says. “And I am willing to take it off, too. If you want.”

“I do.”

“Please, don't panic,” he whispers. “I... Thor told you that I was adopted. But he didn't tell you about my true heritage. And neither did I. Anthony...”

He closes his eyes and concentrates. I have seen this expression for so many times, every time he was casting some more complex spell. For a moment, I don't know what he's planning now, but then I see it and the breath catches in my throat.

His skin is turning blue. Fucking  _blue_ . I know that color. I know those lines that start to appear, too, more and more visible. And when he opens his eyes to look at me... I know that color, too.

Did I say his eyes were red before? Well, they haven't been until now.  _Now_ , they are like frigging rubies.

“Oh,” I say, very intelligently. “So you're one of those... frosty... gianty guys. Those who tried to conquer this planet two months ago or so.”

“Yes. I am.”

“Oh.” _Yeah, call me a genius, I definitely deserve it_. “That explains a lot.”

“I suppose so.”

“I have always wondered why is your body temperature a few degrees lower than mine, while Thor's seems to be a bit _higher_. Yeah, of course. Frosty gianty. Cool. Literally, _cool_.”

He blinks. And then blinks again. And then for the third time.

“You mean... You do not mind?”

“Why would I mind? I wanted to see the real you. It looks... well, just the same as you, only blue. You know, you may be frosty, but at least you're not... gianty. At least not as gianty as they are.”

“Anthony, I am sure there is no such word as _gianty_ ,” he sighs.

“There is, now.”

Those rubies are staring at me and the blue face doesn't look so blank anymore. I can see Loki's emotions, all of them. I see relief, I see hope, I see the sadness that still lingers in his eyes.

“I don't know myself,” Loki murmurs. “But I know myself enough to know that I will not beg you to... I will not beg you.”

I raise my hand and touch his face. His skin is colder than it normally is, but not so much. Can he control his temperature? I have to ask him later. Right now, there is only one thing I can say to make the sadness disappear.

“Now that I know you,” I say, “I think I love you.”

“You've known me for five minutes,” he whispers, but he leans in closer.

“Love at first sight.”

“I still don't know myself,” he protests.

“Then we can get to know you properly... together.”

He smiles as my fingers brush his lips.

“Anthony,” he breathes against my fingertips. “I love you, too. And I would _never_ lie to you about that.”

“I know. I'm sorry.” I bite my lower lip. “Come here, Frosty.”

He rolls his eyes, but leans in to kiss me. I can feel him smiling against my lips.

“If you ever call me Frosty again, my dear,” he murmurs between the kisses, “I will rip your vocal cords out.”

I giggle, because I know this is not a mask. It's him, my proud prince.

“You're Loki, okay?” I sigh when he kisses my neck. “And you are mine.”

Maybe I do know him after all...


End file.
